


Questions and Questions

by orphan_account



Category: Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Afterlife, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 03:14:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18886030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 90% emotionally-driven word vomit, 10% some inklings based on my own feelings about these characters and why they've done what they've donemajor spoilers for the finale!





	Questions and Questions

**Author's Note:**

> im sad yall  
> this doesnt really have a story to it or anything and its pretty open ended, im just sort of writing down my feelings here

Rhombulus isn’t sure where he is, but it’s very quiet. The atmosphere weighs heavy on his being, and no light makes its way behind his eyelid. It’s as if he’s in a deep and dreamless sleep, though he’s certain he’s awake.

 

He opens his eye and sits up, crossing his knees. His surroundings are barren, with a dim purple glow covering the entire area. He recognizes none of it, though he gets the distinct feeling that he’s been here before. His hands are unusually quiet. So is his mind.

 

Rhombulus notices that he’s casting a shadow and stands up, turning around. Glossaryck is sitting near a pot, bubbling with all sorts of unidentified objects. Of course he would be here. He always shows up in times of trouble to make things harder for him. Rhombulus contains a groan of exasperation.

 

“Glossaryck, where am I?” he says, his tone immediately full of irritation. Glossaryck ignores him for a solid ten seconds, but before Rhombulus can grow angry, the little blue man turns around, expressions neutral.

 

“We’re dead, kid.”

 

There’s a beat of silence between the two of them before Rhombulus furrows his brow. “What?”

 

“You heard me, Rhombulus. You and I? We don’t exist anymore.”

 

Rhombulus feels like his stomach should be churning uncomfortably, but it isn’t. He can’t feel it at all, in fact. His hands remain silent.

 

“Hey,” offers Glossaryck, “remember when Star told you you needed to be less impulsive? You never really got anything out of that, did you?”

 

A wave of guilt washes over Rhombulus as he recalls his last few interactions with Star. When they had first met, it felt like there was actually some sort of connection there, but that had petered out over time. That was probably his fault. A lot of things were, nowadays.

 

It strikes him that all his bravado and glee from earlier are gone. Now he just feels kind of sad.

 

“Yep, that’s what happens when you’re dead, you know.”

 

“Huh?” Rhombulus responds.

 

“All those feelings you kept bottled up. You can’t repress ‘em anymore. Besides, it’s not like you have any more reason to celebrate,” Glossaryck continues. “After all,    
Eclipsa is doing just fine.”

 

Rhombulus is sure he would be feeling sick by now, if he still had a proper body. “So nothing we did mattered?”

 

“Oh, no, everything matters,” Glossaryck says. “Your actions are, in part, what led to magic being destroyed. And, you know, I think that’s for the best.”

 

“Wait--” Rhombulus tries to process this. “So we really are dead?”

 

“Yes. That’s what I’ve been saying. You really are a terrible listener.”

 

Something clicks, and Rhombulus whips around frantically. “So where are Omni? And Hekapoo? Why aren’t they with us?”

 

“Oh, you’ll see them soon.” Glossaryck sips nonchalantly from an oversized wooden spoon, chunks of stew dribbling into his beard. It’s gross. “You aren’t ready yet. Gotta wait.”

 

“For what?”

 

“Oh, you know,” Glossaryck responds, sticking the saliva-tainted spoon back into the pot, swirling the ingredients aimlessly. “For something new to happen. It might take a while, though. Make yourself comfortable.”

 

A purple cushion appears a few feet away from the pot. Defeated, Rhombulus trails over to it, confusion and hopelessness bubbling in his chest. He plops into it and sinks into the material. It’s incredibly soft; probably softer than anything he felt when he was alive. He crosses his silent arms with an air of defiance, as if he has anything to say about his situation that won’t lead to him feeling even more helpless. He looks at Glossaryck again.

 

Time passes. It could be minutes, or hours, or days, or weeks, or even longer, but that doesn’t really matter, because it all blends together, with the only interruption being the occasional sound of a bubble popping in the pot. Eventually, Rhombulus feels something change inside of him.

 

“Did I deserve this?” he asks, choking up. It’s been building for a while now, but he supposes that being hard on yourself doesn’t necessarily lead to improvement.

 

Glossaryck pauses, as if he needs to think of a good answer. It ticks Rhombulus off. Glossaryck already knows what he’s going to say, and what Rhombulus is going to say after that, and so it goes.

 

“Does anybody deserve anything?” he eventually replies, sticking an entire arm into the soup. He pulls out a piece of meat that not even the most renowned chef in the multiverse could identify and eats it whole.

 

“That’s not an answer!” Rhombulus roars, standing up straight. “You always do this! Why can’t you just tell me why this happened?”

 

Glossaryck stares at him.

 

“It happened because Star decided that magic was bad for the universe. That’s why we’re dead. This is the third time I’ve told you.”

 

Rhombulus bolts the three feet of space between his seat and the cauldron and flips it over in disgust. Glossaryck floats backwards a few inches, narrowly avoiding the flow of scalding broth. His face is still the same, and it only makes Rhombulus feel worse.

 

“Did that make you feel better?”

 

Rhombulus sniffs wetly, despite his lack of a nose. He’s aware that he already knows the answer to that question. He wishes he wouldn’t ask questions like this--just to make other people more upset.

 

“Can I please see everybody now?” he says, holding back diamond-hard tears. Glossaryck pretends to think about it.

 

“Soon. I just want to know one thing first.”

 

Rhombulus’s sadness morphs into aggravation. “What?!”

 

“Why did you want Eclipsa deposed so badly?”

 

Rhombulus is caught off-guard, but responds with due speed. “Because she doesn’t care about anybody but her monster family!”

 

“And why did that make you hate her so much?” Glossaryck glances down towards where the soup is spilled all over the non-ground. What a mess.

 

Now Rhombulus has to take a minute to think about what he’s going to say. He isn’t really sure why. “I don’t know,” he finally says.

 

Glossaryck smirks. It isn’t cruel, but Rhombulus doesn’t realize that.

 

“What do you want from me?!” he yells, emotions bubbling over. Glossaryck rolls his eyes without malice.

 

“I want you to understand that you messed up, and I want you to understand why.”

 

“Can’t you just tell me?” Rhombulus cries, fed up. “If you’re so all-knowing, just explain it to me!”

 

“You gotta figure it out yourself. Sorry; I don’t make the rules.”

 

“Yes, you do,” Rhombulus mutters, glance cast downwards. Another few minutes pass without words spoken.

 

“Am I gonna at least get to see Lekmet again?” he finally asks, breaking the silence. Glossaryck grins.

 

“There we go,” he says, floating downwards to sit on top of the pot. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Yes.”

 

Rhombulus’s eye widens, and for the first time in a long time, he genuinely feels as if he has something to look forward to.

 

“Soon?”

 

“Yep.”


End file.
